


Pride Was My Sin

by Kosho



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cole (Dragon Age) Being Cole, Cole (Dragon Age) is a Good Friend, Dragon Age: Inquisition Quest - In Your Heart Shall Burn, F/M, Haven (Dragon Age), Helpful Cole (Dragon Age), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pride Demons (Dragon Age), Protective Cullen Rutherford, Tags Contain Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:21:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27034840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kosho/pseuds/Kosho
Summary: So this happened. I’ll add a proper summary later, but as a result of some encouragement and assistance from SBlackmane, Laur, Caitlyn and all the others that enabled me to do this.
Relationships: Female Lavellan/Cullen Rutherford
Kudos: 6





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this happened. I’ll add a proper summary later, but as a result of some encouragement and assistance from SBlackmane, Laur, Caitlyn and all the others that enabled me to do this.

Mirae crossed her arms, staring at the endless enemies spilling into Haven. This was a disaster. The festivities occurring all over Haven had ended abruptly when the first ranks of the army came into view and the alarms sounded. Not even a moment to breathe after closing the Breach, a bit to recover all the energy she poured into closing it. Even with help it left her feeling drained. 

Military strategy was far from her forte. What little she knew came from helping to defend her clan from attackers. Basic things like keeping your archers at range, flanking, warriors lead the charge. Bare tactics like that would do nothing here. Haven’s walls were as soaked parchment, they wouldn’t hold if even the partial might of these invaders were brought to bear against them. Haven was going to fall, the only question was whether or not it was possible to get even a few people out. 

Cullen’s face was grim. He stared out at the unending wave and shook his head. That said all she needed to know: this was it. Mirae wasn’t ready to give up. This wasn’t where or when she wanted to die. Striding over to him, she gestured towards the enemy. 

“Give me something that will help.” She told him. 

“I wish I could. You see what we have to work with. We don’t have the numbers to survive this. Much of the village consists of pilgrims, our soldiers are few by comparison.” Cullen sighed. “The only place that might stand is the chantry…” 

“I’ll grab a team and try to keep them occupied enough for you to get everyone back to it then.” Mirae told him. 

“Are you sure?” He asked, a hint of concern in his tone. “You’ve only just returned from closing the Breach... I can see the toll its taken on you…”

Sighing, she shrugged half-heartedly. “What other options do we have. I refuse to let this be all there is. If I can buy even a few minutes, then I’m alright with that. Don’t waste time on me, get everyone moving.” 

“This feels wrong.” He muttered. “Leaving you out here while we run off? I don’t like it.” 

“Go.” She said more firmly. 

Cullen watched her for a moment, reluctantly turning away. “Alright. I’ll go.” He sighed. “Just...stay alive.” 

Mirae grinned at that. “Is that an order, Commander?” 

“No...I’ll not order the impossible. I would consider it a favor if you would.” He told her. 

“Well. Hasn’t anyone told you? Impossible is apparently my middle name. I’ll meet you in the chantry soon. We can discuss options then, hopefully one or two will have presented themselves.” Mirae said, shaking her head. 

Grabbing Bull, Solas and Varric on her way out the gates, she pointed them to a trebuchet, about to be swarmed. Hunching over herself, there was a blinding flash of light, her silhouette shifting slowly, until she was gone and a giant bear was left in her place, staff precariously strapped to her back. Any other time, it might have been humorous, now, it was just a forgotten detail in the middle of bloody conflict. 

Bull stood of to the side, cleaving through entire groups as easily as the swing of his massive axe, Varric peppering bolts in between Solas’ spells. Charging recklessly between them, massive paws slammed down on red Templars, mashed into the dirt and trampled, jaws clenched around another, picked up and swung viciously side to side, tearing through flesh easily. 

The woman turned the trebuchet, launching a Boulder off into the distance, the snowy blowback enough to stem the flow of enemies, pointed down the path to assist with another. Mirae drug the carcass along, lumbering quickly down the trail with the others. Again, her companions surrounded it, prepared to face off with any that might approach, and there were plenty. More pouring in from all over. Varric stayed back, examining the crank. Jammed, nothing he couldn’t fix. 

He worked quickly, managing to get it unstuck, turning the handle, though it was a slow process. 

“You took the boring job!” Bull teased. “Bianca worn out already?” 

“Oh, she’s always ready to go, but I’m not sure a bear is gonna be able to do this. Let her do her thing, I got this.” Varric replied. 

Mirae tossed the Templar in her jaws at another, swiping fiercely at the one's that broke off to pursue her rather than Bull, no longer interested in the trebuchet. Varric had a completely distraction free window to get it pulled back, ready to fire. He let go, watching it whiz through the air, causing another wave of snow and debris to pour over the Templars. Mirae focused on changing back, shaking the blood off her hands in disgust, spitting red to the side. 

“If we survive this, I’m taking the longest bath of my life.” She grumbled. 

Varric waved her down, plucking stray tufts of fur from her hair. There was no time to breathe. An immense dragon swooped down from the sky, breath aimed at the trebuchet with a piercing screech. The red shards impacted and exploded and they were scattered, sent flying. 

“This looks like trouble. We should head back to the Chantry and see what, if anything we can do.” Solas suggested. 

Bull plucked Varric easily from the snow, setting him back on his feet. Solas held a hand out to her, pulling her up. She brushed herself off, nodding her head in thanks. The group dashed off back towards the gates, distracted by the blacksmith kicking at his door. No longer a bear, Mirae looked herself over with a frown. Not nearly enough bulk to break it down for him. 

Bull wasted no time, charging through it easily. For just a moment, she wished she had paid more attention to Cullen’s suggestion that joining training once in a while couldn’t hurt. Assured he wouldn’t take long and would head for the chantry, they pressed on, stalling again just inside the gates, Templars attacking one way, and anguished pleas for help the other. 

“Looks like another blocked door. You take care of it, we’ll help over here.” Mirae instructed. 

Bull nodded, heading for the small home, the sound of smashing wood reaching their ears just as they had begun to engage the enemy. He returned just as a woman’s voice really called for help. Unsure what to do, Solas pointed to the tavern. 

“Go. We’ll handle this. If needed, we’ll group back up outside the chantry.” He said. 

Nodding, Mirae shielded her face from the smoke, ducking under fallen bits of burning wood. Cautiously stepping over burning chairs, she squatted down, pulling up the burning beam enough for Flissa to pull herself free, an inquisition scout outside helping support her. 

About to rejoin her companions, more screaming led her to dash up the cold stone stairs, in utter disbelief. Explosives put where something like this could happen? Fire spread fast, threatening to collide with the ceramic pots, and Adan and Minaeve lying in the path. Would that she were still a bear, this would be no challenge. Minaeve appeared to weigh the least, easiest to lift. 

Dashing over, Minaeve slung an arm around her neck, lifted with little enough struggle. Mirae rushes to set her down in a safer spot, managing to get back to Adan in time. Too heavy to lift, she grasped him by the elbows, pulling him backwards as quickly as she could manage in the awkward position. The pots exploded in a loud roar, and she winced. Too close, it run in her ears and ached. Had to keep moving, the others were waiting. 

Just outside the chantry, Mirae arrived just in time to see Varric lodge a few bolts into what appeared to be the last Templar between them and meeting with Cullen. Threnn rushed ahead, holding the door for them. 

It was packed, Chancellor Roderick off to the side against the wall. He wouldn’t last the night with injuries like that. How many of these people would be corpses, bloodstains smeared on the ground by the end of the night. Would any of them live to see morning? Cullen shook his head, looking over the continuous stack of reports handed to them. Casualties and injuries, no doubt. He looked briefly, turning away before his head snapped back to look again. He blindly handed the reports back, closing the distance. 

“You’re back.” He said, almost in disbelief. 

“I’m back.” She repeated, grinning impishly. “Told you. Impossible.” 

He looked her over, lingering on her hands, still caked in dried blood. 

“Not mine.” She clarified immediately. “Nothing more serious than a few more bruises I think…” 

“Good. I’m glad.” He sighed. “At least something is going right.” 

“Cullen, there’s a bloody  _ dragon _ out there. Any brilliant ideas you might have, I suggest you lay them out now.” She told him. “ _ Nothing _ is going right.” 

“We May be in luck. Just before you arrived, Roderick told me of a path. We have a way out, however, without a distraction, we’ll be spotted. That’s where we’re stuck. There’s one last trebuchet. Perhaps another avalanche would buy the time we need…” He said tentatively. 

“Yet you don’t want to sacrifice any more men than have already been lost.” Mirae said knowingly. 

“That’s...yes.” He admitted. 

“Then send me back out. I’ll go alone. You focus on getting everyone to safety, and I’ll keep them busy.” She suggested.

“It’ll never work!” Cullen argued. 

“You wound me. Here I thought I was plenty distracting.” She said jokingly. 

Cullen looked away, quiet for a few moments. Taking a breath, he sighed. “If I send you out there by yourself…” 

Mirae gently put her hand on his arm, mismatched eyes flicking to linger on amber for just a few moments. “It’s the only chance you have. You can’t afford to place my life above all these. Get going.” 

He frowned, waving over two soldiers. “I’ll send them with you, long enough to load the trebuchet. After that, it’s on you. Try to keep them busy until we send up a signal once we’re safely out of the way. Tonight, we lose Haven…” as if he was thinking of the whole picture, he turned away. Glancing over his shoulder, he added. “We can’t lose you. Do whatever you have to to make it back.” 

“I’ll see you on the other side.” Mirae said. 

Rolling her shoulders, she left the chantry, watching the soldiers rush ahead. The avalanches has been enough to disrupt the flow of red Templars. Surely they’d have a clear path, long enough to get out, load a Boulder and get back before they’d reach them. Then it was all on her. One last, quick stop while she had the chance then. 

Mirae wandered back to her room, standing at the door with a sigh. Sentimental and foolish as it was, even if the best option was to leave it behind, she couldn’t leave her necklace. A gift from her mother, one she treasured, and one of the only things she brought from home. 

The door creaked open, and she came face to face with a pale young man in a wide brimmed hat. It felt as though she had seen him a few times tonight, but only brief flashes came to mind. 

“It isn’t safe here. You should - “ she began. 

He stepped closer, looking down, her eyes meeting his. Not frightened, his presence felt oddly gentle, soothing. He said nothing for so long she wasn’t sure if he intended to, but he moved so quickly it left her silent, more out of uncertainty than anything. 

“I see it now.” He said. “You’re like me…” 

“You don’t look like a mage.” Mirae commented finally. 

“Not that. The other you.” He told her. 

Odd eyes squinted curiously. It was harder like this, barely able to see the threads of the Fade on him. Not solid. Not human like she initially thought.

“You’re a spirit…” Mirae said, mildly surprised. Few managed to survive outside the Fade. “If you see as clearly, you must know I’m not like you, not truly. My kind...they’re less fragile here. So much temptation and suffering in plenty. People aren’t often virtuous enough for yours to last…” 

“You prefer demon?” He questioned softly. 

“ _ I  _ prefer Mirae Lavellan. Best the others not know.” She sighed. 

She heard footsteps running back the other way, waiting until she heard the heavy think of the chantry doors to show herself properly. 

“Not much choice if I have any chance of living through this anyway. Guess you’ll be the first to see me like this.” She muttered. 

Long, curved black horns slowly extended out from her head, brow covered in dark eyes. Her body crackled with heavily concentrated storm energy. The deep well of power she could draw from like this had benefits. Stronger, more durable, and yet it wasn’t something she could readily do. Not here, not around others. 

“Do you have a name, spirit?” Mirae asked. 

“I’m Cole.” He said quietly. 

“Will you do me a favor, Cole?” She asked. 

“You want me to go. Make sure the others are safe.” Cole said. “I can do that.”

Cole put something in her hand, and Mirae watched him touch the door and disappear. Spirits were a strange sort. Then again, he was the first she’d met that had approached her, spoke to her. Grimacing, she left as well. No point putting it off. Every moment she wasted was time she put the others in danger. Opening her hand, she saw the necklace, smiling warmly as she put it on. 

One small way to keep her grounded. A focus so she wouldn’t lose herself. Mirae headed for the trebuchet, pausing only for a moment at the wave of Templars swarming the area. Flicking her wrists, whips of pure, crackling lightning coiled at her sides. 

“Come at me all at once. So much more fun that way.” She growled. 

She swung wildly, but with an uncanny precision, cutting down Templars as easily as though the others were still with her. Mirae dispelled one whip when she reached the trebuchet, turning the handle, she sighed. 

“Just a bit more. Almost.” She muttered to herself. 

Something stabbed her in the shoulder and she hissed sharply, warm blood drenching her tunic before the air chilled it and it became unpleasant. Looking back, more had filled in, replacing almost every one she had just tore through. Swinging the whip, she aimed, firing a large orb of energy directly into the crowd. The pain was fantastic, but there was no time to slow, no room for error where she’d have liked to curl up in the snow and just lie there for a while. 

Freed again, she returned to turning it. The slow, creaking groan of the wood kept her focused. Almost there. So close she could practically envision it. Another sharp pierce, half down her back at her side this time. Mirae staggered. If not for this form, she’d have collapsed, lost consciousness right there, likely killed shortly after before they went after the others. Her vision swam, but she decided to endure, keep turning even after the ground shaking steps echoed behind her. The crank clicked and the Templars scattered. 

Most might have celebrated, but that was a terrible sign. Something worse was following. The ground shook and the piercing roar behind her meant she had nowhere to go, a tall, menacing, barely human figure approached through the flames at her other side. She wasn’t able to comprehend what the person...thing? Said. The only thing she managed to clearly hear was a name “Corypheus”. He lifted her off the ground and there was no fight left to struggle. He spoke, but nothing would focus. Her mind hazy, shivering from frozen blood caked on her wounds. 

She grunted on the impact when he threw her. Leaned too heavily against the handle, it fired, the swell of snow rushing back enough to chase Corypheus and the dragon off. Blown back, she crashed through thick wooden planks, landing hard. Mirae couldn’t even say where she was, demons in her way swallowed up when the mark reacted strangely, opening a rift that sucked up everything around it before closing and vanishing. That was certainly new. 

Staggering out towards the mouth of the cave, she frowned. Uphill, on a snowy mountain, when she wasn’t even sure how she was still standing. Like she could feel herself draining. Slowly, Mirae made her ascent, wind whipping up veils of snow, making it impossible for her blurry eyes to see a thing. Each step was slow, difficult, excruciating. Embers, a positive sign. They had to be close. Just a little further and - the world went black and she dropped, barely hearing the approaching voices as she slipped into unconsciousness. 

Cullen rushed over to her. Mirae was face first in the snow, tears in her tunic revealing bloodied, deep wounds, a flash of black disappearing into nothing, he blinked. Turning her over, there was a slight flickering on her face, and what looked like many eyes disappeared from view. 

Ah. No. Not strange. Probably part of her spider form. The very way she slipped Cassandra’s interrogation according to reports. Shape shifting. Became a spider in plain view, shackles clattering to the floor and ropes coiled on top. She managed to get outside before she realized there was nowhere to go. 

Cullen carefully picked her up, legs dangling over one arm, his other hand carefully avoiding her injuries, planted on her back for support. He carried her over to the tent, setting her down so the healers and clerics could work. 

It was a damned miracle she lived. To climb the mountain and reach them again in that condition? Beyond miraculous. Maybe a divine blessing wasn’t far from the truth of it. Either way, he felt relief that she was alive. Glancing over, he saw the young man that Roderick had been speaking to. He carefully held her hand, looking up at him from under the brim of his hat. The young man said nothing, turning his attention back to her. 

Much and more had yet to be decided, and much as he wanted to keep an eye on her, he had to discuss their limited options. Turning away, he joined up with Cassandra, Leliana and Josephine to talk, still shocked that anyone, let alone nearly everyone escaped that hell. 


	2. Inquisitor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mirae has barely awoken from still healing injuries sustained at Haven, when she’s immediately slammed with a new title and a busy schedule.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve decided these updates will come a bit more slowly since the chapters are a lot longer than my usual.

Mirae winced when she awoke. Despite what was at minimum, a day or two of healing, she felt terrible still. Every muscle in her body ached and her bones throbbed with all the protestations she anticipated after barely surviving one of the most insane things she’d ever been a part of. A servant knocked, announcing her presence before she came up. She immediately bowed, smiling cheerfully like she was pleased just to be here. Not a face she knew. Not someone who had survived Haven to feel unreasonably indebted. Why was she smiling? 

“Lady Montilyet asked that I come by to assist you, Lady Herald.” She said. 

“A pleasure to meet you, miss…?” Mirae paused. 

“Lily!” She announced. 

Rather than protest, she grimaced, realizing it wouldn’t get her anywhere, except wasting time, everyone’s, truly. She kept her silence, instead, allowing her to help her dress, in some austere black and gold formal attire that she found strangely pleasant. The wool wasn’t itchy, and the shape of it adhered to her perfectly. Not too tight or too loose. Surprisingly warm and comfortable for being nothing she would ever have picked for herself. 

Lily carefully arranged pertinent reports, adjusted and sorted the small stack of about 4 books in the corner of her desk. A quill and parchment in the other. Humming to herself, she assured her of her swift return, leaving as she mentioned, to fetch some tea and a meal. The memories of Haven lingered, the unique feeling of being resigned to die, only to be pulled back from the pyre at the last moment. This felt less like gratitude and more like bribery in advance. Had to be a substantial ask for this sort of reaction. 

It was too much, really. To piece all the information together in a way that made sense would normally be easy. Doing it when she was still wrapped up in many moments at the same time. The look Cullen gave her when he watched her leave the chantry for the last time, meeting Cole. The wonder written plainly on such an innocent face, genuine appreciation for meeting another who at least somewhat understood what it was like to try to  _ exist _ when you knew you had no business doing just that, at least in the minds of many. 

Solas mentioned the orb Corypheus wielded was elven in origin, a thought that made her stomach sink. Not just at what that might seem to suggest, but rather that his answers were vague, and the knowledge that if ever it  _ should _ prove to be necessary, there was always the unwanted option of seeking aid from the less reputable half of her lineage. Her father, a pride demon named Wryme, had been vanquished some years ago, was no option, but that didn’t mean there were no others that learned of an elven artifact of such a nature. 

Lily returned, setting the tray down first, then pouring her some tea, transferring the heavy kettle to her fireplace to stay warm. She ventured to speak again, still smiling, a sunny expression that very nearly was enough to make  _ her _ smile too. 

“I’ve been asked to let you know the others will be by momentarily. Something they wished to discuss with you in private first.” Lily said. 

“Ah, must be something regarding what happened. I don’t doubt they’ve got reports to fill out or what have you.” Mirae murmured. 

She didn’t wait for a response, offering a grateful thank you for the food. Perhaps it wasn’t the best thing that ever crossed her lips, but her stomach was on the verge of roaring demands, it hardly mattered if it was appealing so long as it sated her hunger. The potatoes still had flavor to them. Must be someone new in the kitchen, enough so that they had yet to be taught to cook anything resembling taste or texture from any meal served. 

There was another knock, then came several figures, Cassandra, Josephine, Leliana, Cullen trailing at the end, almost convincingly appearing to be too invested in looking over a few reports, betrayed only by a look that lingered a few moments longer than a momentary glance. Guilt etched itself into his face, a look that shouted the volumes of how he had already begun to rationalize how this was somehow all his fault. 

“I’m told you wished to discuss something with me?” Mirae asked. Pushing her tray aside, more a sign of respect than any indicator she was finished - she wasn’t. Felt like days since she last ate. “If this is about filing a report, I’ll get it done as soon as I can.” 

“Nothing of the sort.” Cassandra said. 

“Then…?” Mirae wondered. 

Taking a sip of the tea, she winced when a fresh wave of aching pains washed over her, nothing to do with the food and everything with moving in such a way even full demons weren’t meant to move. 

“Do you remember discussing the leadership?” Leliana wondered. Seeing the blank look she offered, she continued, assuming perhaps in the chaos she truly had forgotten. “It has become necessary for the Inquisition to have a leader. It can’t be any of us, it is incompatible with our current position. Now, you’ve become a target to a would-be god. If you intended to leave, you’ve clearly missed your window. Therefore, we have submitted  _ you _ to become the Inquisitor.” 

Mirae stared. Why her, why now? Truly just because Corypheus chose her as an enemy? She sighed. Really, all she wanted was to be as out of the way as possible, but if it was Leliana saying it, she trusted it was a well thought out choice. She said her window had passed, but she was equally certain that she’d have refrained from refusing even if she could. Too late to get out, not when that familiar old Dalish sense of responsibility to duty kicked back up full force. Her mother’s teachings filtered through her mind. Sighing again, she nodded. 

“I’m guessing you wouldn’t ask needlessly. I’d truly rather not, but I can’t and won’t refuse. If I’m suitable for the task, I’m willing.” She agreed. 

“Cassandra was certain you’d refuse!” Leliana giggled. 

“Oh, there’s so much planning now…” Josephine murmured, scribbling furiously before continuing. “We’ll have it announced to the keep, the people have been waiting, they’ll be so pleased. Ah. Food. I’ll have to contact suppliers, acquire extra chairs and tables, send for tailors and seamstresses…”

“What’s all that for?” Mirae asked suspiciously. 

“With a leader, it benefits us to show you off, a relatively selective party will do nicely.” She explained. 

Meeting a bunch of entitled nobles and spending a socially exhausting evening didn’t sound at all fun to her, raised in such a way that family was safety and protection involved willful isolation. Still, after what they’d just been through? No way she was going to refuse something that could ease the tension and uncertainty for a while. 

“If you require anything specifically of me, let me know. I’m more than just a signature, after all.” Mirei told her. 

“Josie, maybe we don’t stand here all night, that is quite a lot we’ve just dropped on our new Inquisitor.” Leliana reminded her gently. 

“Ah, yes! Of course.” She murmured absently. 

Cassandra left with the other women, leaving a very relieved, if uncertain Cullen sheepishly lowering the same reports he’d clearly skimmed half a dozen times just so she wouldn’t think his presence too odd. 

“It’s just us now. If you wanted to say something, this is an ideal time.” Mirei suggested. 

His hand idly skimmed the back of his neck, sighing. “We haven’t had much of a chance to talk yet…”

“About Haven?” She suggested knowingly. 

_ Do you have any idea how terrified I was? I thought I’d never see you again, that we were sending you to your death for people you barely knew… the sort of relief I felt when I saw you again, broken and battered as you were, you were  _ _ alive _ _ , that was enough for me, and I -  _

“Yes, about that..” he agreed quietly. “I wanted to assure you I will do better this time. We’ve been given a second chance, I’ll put it to good use. We will not be caught off guard again.” 

She idly massaged her brow and temples like she was trying to fend off a headache. Really, there was no pain there, an irrational buffer against overthinking it too much. 

“I trust you. There was no stopping what happened, even if Haven was more defensible, there was nothing to do. That said…” she paused, standing. Rounding the desk, she leaned against it lightly. “I feel like there’s more you wanted to say.” 

His eyes fixed on hers, molten amber. Contrary to most, she liked that he looked down to meet her eyes. To her, a sign he was devoting all of his focus to her when they spoke. That was a good feeling. 

“I...there was something, but I really should get back to work. There’s so much that needs to be done, it isn’t fair to take up more of your time.” Cullen murmured. 

He turned, and she reached out, loosely holding his wrist, wordlessly imploring him to stay, to speak his mind. He grimaced in a way that seemed to suggest he wasn’t truly certain on the timing. 

“I’m glad you’re alive.” He said. Frowning, he added. “There’s...more than just professional concern.” 

“Are you…” she began. 

His face flushed faintly, his hand covering hers long enough to appreciate the gentle urgency behind the gesture. 

“I need to go.” He said. Reaching the stairs, he added. “If we happen to have some downtime, perhaps we could talk more.” 

Mirae nodded. They’d spent some time already, talking over late night sessions of staring at the war room map, trying to figure out how best to approach situations. What was originally strictly just talk of strategy and updates on prior situations became talking about training and work in general. Soft looks across the table, the idle brush of hands when he offered her tea, a grateful sigh when she’d drape a blanket over him when he dozed off. 

She could say they were friends, close comrades. That was enough, certainly, and yet the faint memory of urgent prayers for her, the solid strength of the arms that held and carried her, the lips that begged her to do the impossible and be alright were burned in her memory. Those feelings that welled up had not subsided, but intensified keenly in just a few days. 

The door closed, and she shook herself from thinking about it too seriously. Sighing, she remembered her tea, her lunch, reaching for it. She was part way through her potatoes when she noticed the expectant dwarf standing in front of her. Too quiet. She hadn’t even noticed him until just then. 

“Hmm?” She hummed. 

Mirae put her hand a bit in front of her face, an almost habitual thing she did to keep people from accidentally seeing her eating that she no longer remembered how or why it began, only that she did it thoughtlessly now. Swallowing, she chased it with a sip of tea before she spoke. 

“Varric. What can I do for you?” She asked. 

“I overheard the news. Thought maybe that was worth celebrating, thinking I grab Dorian, Bull and a few others and we throw our own party tonight, no nobles, no one you don’t already know. What do you think?” He wondered. 

“I get the feeling this is as much for you as it is for me, but given that I think everyone could use a bit of stress relief right now, I’ll allow it. Tonight after dark?” Mirae guessed. 

“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking. I’ll arrange everything, you’ll enjoy it.” Varric promised. “Now, I’ll see to that so you can have a moment’s peace to eat and catch your breath.” 

“See you in a while.” She said distractedly when he turned to leave. 

The door closed and she heaved a sigh, leaning back in her seat. Barely out of bed and it already seemed like this might just be the new normal. Finishing her food slowly, she set it aside, topping off her tea. Wincing, she frowned. The cold was doing no favors, painfully licking at her still mending wounds. A bath would be nice, as would a little more time to rest under the covers. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought compared to my usual that it would be odd to have only spoken a few times and then just a relationship, so I added in a little extra to establish that there’s some existing chemistry with Cullen.


End file.
